


Healer M.D.

by lunaesomnium



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Sawada Tsunayoshi, Romantic Comedy, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaesomnium/pseuds/lunaesomnium
Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi, Healer, M.D. and apparently—a magnet for trouble ... and persistent suitors?





	1. Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhh omg ... I never realized that like, people would miss my fics? like wtf? i got some PMs on my old FF.net that really made me so happy, so here's an oldie but a goodie, one of my fav. fics i've written and that i have had planned out to like, the 12th chapter since like 2013 lol. 
> 
> there's really no plot to this, it's just really fluffy. and really indulgent. lol
> 
> hope you enjoy!

_ Five days ago  _ ...

Tsuna had been hesitant to initiate a purge to bleed off his extra magic, but after nearly blowing up his kitchen after completing a simple cooking spell, he knew it had to be done—he was pushing it, waiting as long as he had to purge once more.

It'd been what, a year and a half since his last one? Most people with his reserves and wild magic usually completed a purge every six months, and by the eighth month he'd been feeling the strain. By the ninth, he'd learned to compensate. The next few months followed in a blur as he was consumed by his work, but by the year and a half mark, he knew he had to purge soon—or perish.

The cleansing spell had been wordless, as it always was, introspective and silent—more a meditation than anything. He'd sunk into his magical core with little to no fanfare, noting absently that it took longer than it normally did—probably due to the fact it had been so long since his last purge. He had winced at the sight of his magical core, the entire mass pulsing arrhythmic and erratic and glowing sickly. He really hadn't done himself any favors waiting so long.

It had taken him what felt like  _ years _  to untangle his core, to soothe and heal, but after he was finished the heavy weight in his chest and shoulder had eased, little by little until it had finally dissipated with a barely there tingle he'd felt all the way down to his toes.

With his core straightened out, his wild magic had calmed enough that he could guide it mentally into the conduit stones he'd set up around his bed, the objects glowing brightly, pulsing in the back of his head. Tsuna hadn't counted on the stones overheating and exploding—and he certainly didn't count on the backlash of the magic consuming him and knocking him out, placing him in a magical stasis.

* * *

He wakes with a sigh, and although his eyes are still shut, his body still feels achy and sore. Despite the minimal pain, he still feels better than he has in  _ literally _  years. His mind is free of the cloudy haze that had plagued him for months, and he doesn't feel weighed down by heavy magic. No—he feels light and almost weightless and the feeling has him smiling slightly—and then wincing when the movement somehow makes his pain flare worse than before.

He groans loudly and sits up, his abdominal muscles screaming in protest. He places a hand on the area that hurts the most and— _ coaxes  _ his magic out little by little to ease the pain felt, not only in his stomach but in his entire body. It's only after that's completely done that Tsuna breathes a sigh of relief, as sore muscles and aches are soothed away by his magic.

He hums a little as he rises from his bed, not even sparing a glance to the bits of rocks littering his floor—he'd have to clean that up later so as to not step in it and harm himself,  _ later _  being the operative word. He didn't feel like using his magic to clean and he certainly didn't feel like sweeping. He'd clean up the rocks eventually, and he'd have to buy new ones before he initiated another cleansing ritual.

But first—he should check his phone and his appointment book, to make sure he hadn't missed anything while he was out. Absentmindedly, Tsuna swipes his phone from the bedside table and makes his way over to his desk, where his appointment book lay innocuous and small against the gargantuan piece of furniture his dad has insisted on buying him.

Practiced, mindless movements have him unlocking his cellphone without looking—and it's a  _ good _  thing Tsuna hadn't been drinking anything when he saw the date because  _ five days _  had passed since he'd started the purge—and that can't be right … but his phone has never been wrong before—

" … w-well … I guess I have a new record now." He says to himself quietly, still in shock. He'd never been asleep more than a few hours after a purge—but all his previous cleanses had happened within the recommended time-frame for someone who had his reserves and wild magic. "But—" he murmurs, checking his phone for any missed calls or messages, making a pleased noise when he found none. "I haven't gone so long without a purge before. I guess I deserved it."

Next, Tsuna checks his appointment book, placing his phone down to pick up the aforementioned book. He hadn't missed any appointments while he was asleep. That was good. And then there's a look of … not disbelief , but disappointment when he sees that he hadn't missed any appointments because he didn't have anything booked for another  _ three _  weeks when Lambo came by for his monthly appointment.

Tsuna knew  _ objectively _  that business hadn't been good lately, but he hadn't thought it had gotten this bad … how long had Lambo been the only patient that came by regularly?

Almost frantically, Tsuna flips back through his appointment book, mouth turning down more and more and more as he realized that he'd had only one appointment per month, all booked by Lambo's father for Lambo.

That's …

"Great," Tsuna mutters bitterly, almost giving in to the urge to slam the appointment book down onto the desk, but putting it back in its original place quietly at last second. "This definitely shows my father I can be successful with  _ my _  chosen profession … that I can succeed … that I'm not a  _ failure … _ !"

Although Sawada Iemitsu hadn't been around much, preferring the company of his guild to his own  _ family _ , he'd taken one look at the results detailing Tsuna's large reserves and wild magic and wanted Tsuna to join his guild.

Tsuna, of course, had said no. He didn't want to fight. He wasn't cut out for it—no matter how much magic he had. His father hadn't reacted well to the idea that Tsuna wanted to become a healer—a magical doctor, and although he did try to be supportive, it often fell flat.

Tsuna figured his father was just waiting for him to fail so he could say ' _ I told you so _ ' and invite him into the guild once more.

But Tsuna wasn't going to let that happen. He hadn't inherited much from his father, as he had his mother's coloring  _ and _  build, but he had inherited one thing—his father's stubbornness.

Tsuna wasn't going to fail because he wasn't going to  _ allow _  himself to fail.

* * *

After a much-needed shower, Tsuna stands hunched over his sink, glaring at his reflection. His resolve to save his business is sky-high, but he has no plan to speak of and he doesn't even know where to begin to get more patients.

"You're not going to fail." He says to his reflection. "You're  _ not. _  If you do, Lambo won't have a healer anymore—"

It's a weak argument. There are thousands upon  _ thousands _  of healers in the world, and a great many of them are probably much better than Tsuna at treating their patients.

He sighs, glare sliding off his face in favor of a more tired expression. His stomach growls, reminding him he hasn't eaten in five days, and he sighs again—remembering that he has  _ no _  food in his house to speak off.

"I can't plan anything on an empty stomach." Another sigh. "Might as well postpone any planning until I get something to eat."

And get  _ dressed _ . His ears burn as he looks down at his towel-clad body, remembering he didn't have any clothes on, having just got out of the shower.

He pushes the bathroom door open, goosebumps rippling across his back and shoulders as the steam billows out of the bathroom and the cooler air from his adjacent bedroom hits Tsuna square in the face. Tsuna makes his way to his tiny closet, wincing as he tracks water across the hardwood floor (yeah … he's gonna have to clean that up later as well), promptly picking out an old t-shirt and jeans that have gone through the wash perhaps one time too many.

He gets dressed quickly, nearly  _ drooling _  at the thought of food—he's so distracted he puts his shirt on backwards and only realizes he's done so when the collar digs into his throat strangely. After he's fixed his shirt and made sure he looks at least  _ somewhat _  presentable with a quick glance in the mirror next to his desk, he grabs his wallet and his keys, making his way out of his room and down the stairs.

The ground level of Tsuna's house was converted into a waiting room and a few consulting rooms within the first three months of him living there, and the second story remained as it was, with a master bedroom and a couple of guestrooms, although they'd been unoccupied since Tsuna had signed the lease. His parents never visited and he didn't have many friends—so Tsuna used the rooms for storage, to be as practical as possible.

There's a despondent look aimed at the empty waiting room and Tsuna sighs once more before turning and walking out of his house, locking the door after him. 

* * *

 

Tsuna's property operates on a strange bit of magic that had come with the purchase. It was unplottable and impossible to simply stumble upon, one had to have the  _ intent _  to find Tsuna and his house to arrive on the property. Anyone looking to find Tsuna's house could do so from wherever in the world they were—but they had to be walking through a forest and thinking of Tsuna's house to do so.

After buying his house, Tsuna realized perhaps a bit belatedly that such a spell probably wasn't good for business, as privacy wasn't his goal, but it had worked out in the end—being able to reach Tsuna from any place in the word was incredibly convenient for Lambo and his father, as they lived far away from Tsuna's actual address and often traveled.

Before completely leaving his house, Tsuna had to check to make sure he'd locked the house—three times.

Once, he'd done it out of habit, and therefore absentmindedly, so he hadn't remembered if he'd locked the house or not.

Twice, he managed to convince himself that he'd locked the door  _ wrong _ .

Thrice, because he had to re-lock it … just to make sure.

He almost went for a fourth time before shaking his head with a small, self-deprecating smile.

"Duh, Tsuna … your house is  _ unplottable _ . That means no one can find it unless they already know where it is … "

After that, he leaves his house without a backward glance, stomach rumbling once more at the promise of food.

It takes him little more than ten minutes to navigate his way out of the forest, which is much better than the forty minutes it'd been when he'd first moved into his house.

He stops to greet the oldest tree in the forest, and ignoring his rumbling stomach, reaches out a hand with a soft smile to press it against the trunk of the tree in front of him.

He gently feeds some of his magic into the tree and his smile widens further when the tree tries to do the same for him, the natural magic coiling around his wrist like a caress before retreating back into the tree.

"It's so good to see you, but I have to go … I'm going to go out to eat! I'll bring you back some flowers if you want. Not dead ones! Ones with roots still attached."

He's tempted to just stay and continue the rather one-sided conversation with the ancient tree, but his stomach keeps rumbling and growling, and the hunger has manifested in dizziness and a small headache. Tsuna  _ really _  needs to eat.

With one last pat, Tsuna turns to leave, walking leisurely along the path that will lead him out of the forest the quickest, and after that, it's about a kilometer and a half walk to the nearest shops and restaurants.

He makes it to the nearest and most popular restaurant— _ TakeSushi— _ in record time, spurred on by his hunger and just the thought of food. He's so distracted by his very vivid imagination that he runs into someone, and they both land on the ground  _ hard _ , legs tangled together.

"Ouch,  _ ouch _ , ouch—" He mutters to himself quietly, opening his eyes from when he'd slammed them shut upon crashing into the ground. He can see the other person—silver half-hidden by a baseball cap, green eyes narrowed angrily, expensive clothes all rumpled from Tsuna colliding with him—gearing up to start yelling at him when he sees  _ red _  smeared on the pavement.

_ Blood  _ smeared on the pavement.

"Y-you're hurt! I'm so sorry, please let me heal you, it's the least I could do … after bumping into you like that." He doesn't wait for the other man to respond, untangling his legs and kneeling to lean forward to grab the man's hand, and cradling it in his own, Tsuna pressing his magic gently into the wound and watching it close up quickly, as it was just a simple scrape. As an afterthought, Tsuna sends a tendril of magic into the other man's body to make sure he's not hurt anywhere else, and finding out he's not, Tsuna smiles.

It's only habit that has Tsuna leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against newly healed, unmarred skin (Lambo insisted that he do so every time Tsuna healed him and Tsuna had long since given up protesting to the request) and once Tsuna remembers that he's  _ not _  healing Lambo, a ruddy flush spreads across his face and he sits back on his heels quickly.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" From the looks of it, the other man was just as mortified as Tsuna, his pale skin an even deeper red than Tsuna's, and his eyes wide—as if he couldn't  _ believe _  the man who'd just bumped into him had just kissed his  _ hand _ . "P-please forgive me, I didn't mean to be so familiar, I just—"

"Please be my mate!" The man says abruptly, interrupting Tsuna's hysterical apology, a strange  _ thump-thump-thump _  sounding from somewhere behind the other man.

"W-what?" Because there's no way Tsuna heard that right, absolutely  _ no way. _

The thumping noise persists and Tsuna's brow furrows as he tries to figure out what it could possibly be making that noise. He leans to the side to see if anyone behind them could be the culprit. And—then he sees  _ it _ .

A tail—the same silver as the man's hair—thumping against the ground excitedly.

It all falls into place after that … why the man was wearing a baseball hat as it was probably hiding furred  _ ears _  to match the  _ tail _ , why he said 'mate'—the man was—

"You're a … werewolf?"

The man nods eagerly, his blush turning an even brighter red.

"Please be my mate!"


	2. The Summer Spies are Watching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mass uploading all the chapters i had written for this, rip to anyone who had this in their alerts or whatever its called
> 
> oh also i will be uploading new stuff for old fics, just might take me awhile because i have ... so many old fics ... so ... so many ... old fics plus i have NEW ideas and its just.. its just a mess
> 
> again, i don't know much more about sushi, so ... im sorry if this is just as cringe as it was back in like 2015

There's a heavy, awkward silence – at least on Tsuna's part – after the silver-haired man's second declaration, and Tsuna himself rises from his kneeling position on the rough sidewalk, dusting dirt from the seat of his pants. He avoids eye-contact, his own cheeks a bright red, and he blushes even harder when he hears the continuous muted  _ thump-thump-thump _  of the other man's tail against concrete. It doesn't seem right to simply just shoot the other man down, not when he seems so earnest and sweet. Tsuna grapples for a way to let the guy down easy, wringing his fingers nervously. "I – I … don't even know your name – !"

The werewolf scrambles to his feet, taking Tsuna's hands in his—who definitely does _  not _  flush a ruddy red at the feel of warm, large, soft harms encasing his own. "I'm Hayato Gokudera … er. Gokudera Hayato, now that I'm in Japan. I –  _ please _  be my mate!"

"S-shouldn't we try for being friends first … we just met, I mean –" Tsuna says timidly and quietly, peaking up at Gokudera through the fringe of his bangs, only to wince when a crestfallen expression overtakes the previously happy and love-struck one.

"F … friends, right …" Gokudera's grip on Tsuna's hands goes a bit slack and this time, it's him who's averting his gaze, face flush not with awe, but embarrassment and humiliation. Even his tails and ears droop, a vivid contrast to how his tail had wagged so fiercely and his ears had perked up when asking Tsuna to be his mate.

Ever the people-pleaser, Tsuna grips Gokudera's fingers, leaning to the side just a bit to make eye-contact with the werewolf, smiling hesitantly. "I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi." He pauses, remembering Gokudera was likely a foreigner, given that he'd messed up the order of his name. "You can … um … you can call me Tsuna if you want."

From the way Gokudera lights up, almost immediately snapping out of his morose mood, it's obvious he knows the significance of Tsuna giving the werewolf permission to be so familiar with him. His cheeks flush a soft, bright red, and clutches Tsuna's hands close to his chest, inadvertently tugging Tsuna into his personal space. "Tsuna …" It's said with a soft reverence and wonder. "Y-you can call me Hayato!"

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tsuna can see people turning to look at the spectacle they must make together and even a few begin to whisper and point. "Hayato-kun … do you want to have dinner with me?" It's only after the words leave his mouth that Tsuna realizes that it sounds like he was asking Gokudera on a  _ date _  and not just to get them both away from prying eyes.

Immediately after the words leave his mouth, Tsuna can hear the sound of Gokudera's tail hitting the side of his jeans, a more muffled  _ thump-thump-thump _ , than when they'd both been on the ground and Gokudera's wagging tail had been hitting the sidewalk.

"YES! Of course! I mean –" Gokudera fumbles over his words, flustered, even as his tail starts wagging even faster. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Tsuna!"

Gokudera's earnest actions make something warm bloom in Tsuna's chest and he smiles, finding he doesn't have the heart to correct Gokudera's assumptions. "Alright," he says softly, tugging Gokudera in the direction of the restaurant he wanted to go to. "I have just the place."

* * *

"E-eh … Hayato-kun … I think I should pay at least half of our bill. We did order a lot –" Tsuna plays with his napkin, cringing inwardly at what even  _ half  _ of the price of their dinner was, but knowing it was the right thing to do. After all, friends shouldn't take advantage of one another and that's exactly what would happen if Tsuna didn't pay his share of the bill.

Though to be fair, when Tsuna set out for TakeSushi, he only expected to buy a small dinner for one. 

But Tsuna hadn't counted on Gokudera ordering several of the large sampler platters and some of the most expensive dishes without even batting an eye.

"Hmm?" Gokudera inquires distractedly, tucking a shiny credit card inside the small black folder that had their bill tacked inside. "No." He says firmly, eyes on Tsuna as he hands the folder back to their server.

"W-wha –  _ but  _ –"

"I'm showing that I can provide for you, Tsuna." While Gokudera remains as earnest as ever, he seems uncharacteristically solemn as he keeps his eyes locked on Tsuna's. "If I couldn't do that, then I'd be a horrible choice for a mate."

" … oh … " Tsuna can understand the sentiment behind such a thought, but it still feels wrong to just let Gokudera pay for the entirety of their meal. He doesn't say that however, continuing to fiddle with the edge of a napkin.

There's a few moments of silence between them and Gokudera takes that time to check his phone, only to "Tch," when he sees what's on the screen.

"What?" Tsuna asks curiously, straightening his posture to try and see what was on the screen of the other man's phone that made him so irritated.

"The only hotel in town doesn't have any open rooms," he says gruffly, typing away at his phone.

"Oh! You can – you can stay with me!" Tsuna blurts out, feeling that if he can't pay for his meal, then he should at least help Gokudera in this way.

Gokudera's fingers freeze on his phone and with his head angled down, Tsuna can't see the expression the werewolf is making. When the silence continues for a beat or so, Tsuna anxiously wonders if he had made the wrong choice.

Finally,  _ finally, _  Gokudera looks up, fingers still frozen on his phone. There's awe and something like love in Gokudera's eyes and his voice quiet as he asks, "Really?"

"Well, yes? I mean …" Tsuna rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I have a few extra rooms – they're not as fancy as a hotel, but –"

"I would – I'd love to stay with you."

Their server comes back with Gokudera's credit card and receipt and after shoving both in his pocket, the man stands, reaching over to offer a hand so Tsuna can stand as well. Gokudera keeps his hand clasped in Tsuna's even after Tsuna raises himself to his feet but Tsuna figures making a scene over such a small thing would be ungrateful after the werewolf had paid for their expensive dinner.

Besides, it's not as if Tsuna  _ really _  minded. Gokudera was warm and his hands were soft, it wasn't exactly a  _ hardship _  to hold his hand.

"It's a few kilometer walk to my house, do you … I mean – are you okay with that?" Tsuna asks as they leave the restaurant and he begins tugging Gokudera in the right direction.

When Gokudera doesn't respond right away, Tsuna turns to look at him – blushing when he realizes the werewolf had been staring at him very softly and very affectionately, in lieu of answering him.

"Yeah." Gokudera finally replies. "I'm okay with that."

* * *

"Report."

"I encountered Bianchi-sama's younger brother while doing reconnaissance in Namimori. He seems to have set his sights on a mate."

"Interesting. I want you to follow them and report back to me daily."

"Of course, Reborn-sama."

* * *

The phone barely rings twice before the woman on the other end answers.

"Bianchi. I have some interesting news regarding your brother."

"… has he been hurt?"

"No. He's picked out a mate."

" _ What? _  Are you sure?"

"They're both in Namimori. You can verify it yourself."

"I'll be sure to do that then."

A pause.

"Thank you for the information, Reborn."

Another pause before the two lines go dead, almost simultaneously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gokudera is a puppy pass it on ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK. i _still_ haven't figured out what all the khr characters are going to be creature wise. if you have suggestions leave em below! i'll put what i have decided on below. hopefully it doesn't take up too much space!
> 
> Gokudera = beta werewolf  
> Mukuro = stolas (owl demon prince)  
> Chrome = mukuro’s twin  
> Yamamoto = human, magical specialist  
> Lambo = minotaur  
> Hibari = born vampire  
> Ryohei = phoenix  
> Giotto = turned vampire  
> Alaude = born vampire  
> Xanxus = dragon  
> Byakuran = kitsune  
> Bianchi = alpha werewolf  
> Kyoko = phoenix  
> Haru = woodland nymph

Yamamoto Takeshi is living a charmed life.

Or at least he is in the eyes of his peers and the various interns and nurses that are employed by the only magical hospital in Namimori.

The reality of the situation is a little different.

He's one of the best magical doctors in the country and one of the few Specialists in all of Asia, which is a sort of qualification that is awarded to those in the Magical Medical field that don't quite fit in with any specific field, but are exceptional at what they do. His magic is original and unique, imbued with a special calming and cleansing property that is used most often as an anesthetic. Getting him as a doctor is a privilege, especially since his magic tends to rejuvenate the body and cleanse it of all impurities. Although it's possible for ordinary magic users to create and use spells that would have the same effect, such magic would be very draining and less potent that Yamamoto's.

He's gotten various accolades and many magical medical journals request to interview him monthly. He never fails to decline and he'd refuse the awards as well, but his father is always so ecstatic when he receives one he never has the heart to.

Despite the recognition, the fame, the more than modest wealth – Yamamoto feels empty inside. He's not  _ unhappy _  and he does continue to smile at everyone and nothing at all, but that's more in simple reflex, rather than true happiness. His job isn't as fulfilling as he thought it'd be as a magical medical student and his life outside of work is lonely and isolated, as he has only mere acquaintances at work and the only person he regularly talks to is his father and even then – they only talk every few days because of their equally busy schedules.

"… sorry." Yamamoto says into the phone cradled between his cheek and shoulder, shaking himself out of his melancholic thoughts and continuing to work on his measly dinner for one. "I wasn't listening; could you repeat that?"

His father laughs, the sound booming and tinny simultaneously and when he begins to speak again, his voice is warm and fond. "I said I had a customer the other day, and his magic – well, it sort of reminded me of yours. You could be  _ compatible _  …" Yamamoto's father lets the sentence trail off suggestively and despite himself, Yamamoto smiles slightly.

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was always trying to set his son up with his customers and although it never worked, the thought was always – _  mostly _  – appreciated. Because while Yamamoto could understand his father not wanting him to end up a lonely old man, the woman he'd set Yamamoto up with two years ago still hadn't gotten the hint that Yamamoto wasn't interested in anything romantic with her.

"You've never said that about a customer before." His curiosity has been  _ thoroughly _  piqued and he shifts his phone from being pinned by his cheek, to being held by his hand. He glances one last time at his half-prepared dinner before resigning himself to eating at his dad's place – because nothing he could ever cook could live up to what the owner of TakeSushi could whip up and  _ besides _ , he  _ is _  kinda curious about this mysterious customer of his father's.

Compatibility between magic users was nothing to joke about – those that were compatible were as cherished as fabled 'soul-mates' to one another and any magic cast by the two of them (or more, it wasn't unusual for someone to be compatible with more people or magical creatures, but it wasn't exactly  _ common _ ) was exceptionally powerful and potent. Compatible magic users were complementary, with traits that balanced one another out in different ways. They were essentially made for one another. Yamamoto could only begin to wonder what type of person would be compatible with him, since his magic was so unique already. Just thinking about it made some sort of strange and undecipherable feeling overtake him. Yamamoto couldn't decide is the feeling was a good or bad one, but it was certainly better than feeling  _ empty _  his every waking moment.

"Oi, old man! Fix me up something to eat and you can tell me about this customer of yours over dinner. I'll be over in about twenty minutes."

Yamamoto's father hums an affirmative, already beginning to prepare a meal if the almost rhythmic clinking and clanking of pots, pans, and utensils were anything to go by. Sensing that his father is too focused on preparing a meal to properly continue their conversation, Yamamoto murmurs a goodbye and hangs up. He looks around at his empty and almost sterile-looking apartment and for the first time in a long time, he begins to  _ feel _  again.

* * *

"Hayato-kun! Another package came for you in the mail!" Tsuna doesn't bother going to find the werewolf, instead raising his voice just a bit and calling him from the modest kitchen tucked into the back of the first floor. With his heightened hearing, Gokudera would be able to hear him from just about anywhere in the house. Tsuna learned this the hard way when he'd slipped and fallen in the shower and he'd let out a loud yelp at the sudden and sharp pain of falling onto his bum on the slick and unforgiving ceramic bath-tub. Gokudera had burst into the bathroom (and Tsuna could've  _ sworn _  he'd locked the door before undressing), and at seeing Tsuna naked and wet through the half-open glass shower doors, he'd promptly turned a brick red and stuttered out a few mumbled apologies while fumbling with the door handle, unable _–_ or perhaps  _ unwilling _   _–_ to take his eyes off of the other man.

The incident had made things awkward for a few hours, but Gokudera had apologized so sincerely Tsuna couldn't  _ help _  but forgive him.

It had only been about three days since Gokudera had begun living with him and the werewolf had somehow wormed his way into Tsuna's heart in just that short period of time. Perhaps it was his earnest and easy to please nature, or the way he looked at Tsuna with so much affection, or even the way his hair was so mussed and messy when he came downstairs after waking– either way, Tsuna had gotten used to Gokudera living with him and the werewolf was slowly becoming the best friend he'd ever had.

Despite himself, Tsuna smiles giddily down at the meal he's preparing, although he makes an attempt to curb his fond smile when he hears Gokudera come down the stairs.

"Tsuna? Where did you put the p _ ackage –  _ y-you – a-a- _ apron _  –"

Tsuna blinks, confusion shifting his expression from the warm one he'd been wearing a few seconds ago to a more neutral and inquisitive one. He lowers the heat on the stir fry he'd been preparing before turning to Gokudera, who's standing in the doorway, flustered and red-faced.

As the werewolf sees the said apron from the front, his eyes widen even further and a familiar blush spreads along his cheek and down his neck, disappearing under the collar of his shirt, even as his ears perk up and his tail slowly starts wagging behind him.

Self-consciously, Tsuna rubs his hands down the front of the apron, glancing at it to try to discern what had gotten the other man so wound up. "E-eh? Well – I didn't want to get my clothes dirty … and this is the only apron I have, I mean! It was a gift from my mom, she really liked the frills and the designs and I didn't – I couldn't say no. I guess it does look pretty ridiculous from someone else's point of view though –"

"No!" Gokudera interrupts desperately, taking a step forward, making brief eye-contact with Tsuna, before staring at the apron intensely, tail wagging faster behind him. "It looks – it really fits you, Tsuna!"

A beat.

"… thanks." Tsuna wonders if that could be considered a compliment or an insult before shaking his head and changing the subject. "I – is stir-fry okay with you? I don't have many groceries here, but I feel bad making you treat me every night …" It was a bit of a white lie – Tsuna didn't have  _ any  _ groceries for the past three days, ever since he'd woken up from the purging ritual that had gone awry. It was the main reason Tsuna allowed Gokudera to treat him to food – but this morning, he'd gone to the grocery store to buy some food that was hopefully up to Gokudera's expensive tastes. The only reason Tsuna had thought to lie about such an innocuous thing was that he's sure Gokudera would  _ insist _  on buying the groceries or at least pay him back and he's already treated Tsuna to so many meals – the thought of continuing to live off of Gokudera's money is so awful because Tsuna would never want to  _ use _  the werewolf like that, would never want to be the reason Gokudera squandered all of his money and became broke.

And so, Tsuna used his own meager funds to buy groceries to last for the next few days, hoping that said groceries would at least be  _ somewhat  _ to Gokudera's taste.

"Stir-fry sounds great … it's been a long time since I've had a home-cooked meal –" Gokudera sounds wistful and sad all at once, moving into the kitchen silently to wash his hands, his socks making barely a sound against the white textured tile.

"Hmm … I'm sure many people would like to cook you things, Hayato-kun! They probably just never had the opportunity." It's Tsuna's awkward attempt at trying to lighten the mood and when there's no response from Gokudera, Tsuna turns to absentmindedly stir the array of vegetables and meat sitting in a warm pan.

Behind him, Gokudera mumbles something and Tsuna turns back to the other man, thinking to ask him to repeat himself, only to end up nose-to-nose with the werewolf. Needless to say, the words die in Tsuna's throat and it takes a moment to remember what he was going to say, especially when Gokudera reaches up a warm hand to cup Tsuna's cheek gently.

"W… w-w-what did you say?" Tsuna couldn't break eye-contact with the other man, even if he  _ wanted  _ to, mesmerized by the leafy green of the werewolf's eyes. His magic, which is usually a bit restless underneath his skin, had become positively  _ electric  _ the moment Gokudera had touched his cheek and it feels a bit like when he has his 'talks' with the old tree in the forest, except warmer and deeper, somehow headier. It makes his head spin and it's so hard to focus on the conversation at hand when his magic is being so distracting.

"I  _ said _ _ – _ " Gokudera punctuates the few words by rubbing his thumb over Tsuna's cheekbone, an indescribable softness in his eyes and in the way he's treating Tsuna. Tsuna himself nearly groans when the innocent touch sends his magic into an exhilarating, intoxicating flurry and his knees almost buckle. "They're not you. I wouldn't care about other people making me food, but for you – it's different."

"O-o-oh …" Tsuna is barely coherent enough to utter the sound, his magic a pleasant weight on his shoulders and sensitive neck. His magic begins to pulse and pulse and just as it's about to crest –

Tsuna accidentally drops the spatula he'd been using for the stir-fry.

The strange spell his magic had woven instantly dissipates and Tsuna's errant magic jumps back into his aura, the familiar tingling feeling under his skin renewing itself as his magic goes back to normal. Tsuna bends to grab the fallen spatula, throwing it in the sink – his face hot and his hands clammy.

Resolutely, he grabs two plates and the package of plastic forks – he'd bought on a whim when remembering that Gokudera was likely foreign – and turns back to the werewolf, willing the blush on his cheeks away. From how hot his cheeks continue to burn, he doesn't think he's managed.

Gokudera's ears and tails have drooped silently, likely because of Tsuna unceremoniously jerking back from his touch, but he perks right back up when Tsuna hands him the plate and forks and smiles at him softly. "W-why don't you go set the table while I finish dinner, it shouldn't take me too long. The table's just outside the kitchen and to the left, the first door you see. The room should be unlocked."

The smile Gokudera responds with is almost unbearably bright and it warms Tsuna right down to his core.

* * *

Yamamoto tries to convey his incredulity silently while chewing, but it's probably hard to manage such a thing when his cheeks are bulging with half-chewed food. " … so." He begins after he's chewed and swallowed his food. "You didn't get his name or his number and you only barely saw what he looked like." He laughs, the sound lighter than it's been in probably months, or even years. "This … might be a little difficult. Didn't you say you thought he might be a regular? I'll find him eventually." Somehow, the optimism feels more natural and not  _ nearly  _ as forced as it used to.

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi can likely sense the positive change in his son, especially if the grin slowly spreading on his face is any indication. "Mm. I think he's been here before, but I never noticed his magic the way I did a few days ago."

His father's words startle him out of his perusal of the empty and closed restaurant and he turns back to the conversation at hand, shoving the faint thoughts of where the mysterious customer had sat to the side. "Hmm…" He hums pensively, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. "Well, he could be in the immediate stage of Fresh Magic, after a purge. A cleansing ritual would certainly make his magic more noticeable and not as – "

"Ah!" Yamamoto's father suddenly stands from his seat opposite his son, interrupting Yamamoto's 'Doctor Mode.' He doesn't seem to realize he's cut his son off, rushing into his kitchen while a bewildered Yamamoto follows after him.

Yamamoto arrives just in time to see his father pull at various drawers urgently, which only lasts for a few seconds before he gives a wordless exclamation of triumph and hurries over to his son, a card held in his hand.

"What … " The rest of Yamamoto's sentence trails off as he begins to read the card his father had so frantically searched for.

_ Sawada Tsunayoshi, Healer M.D. _

The rest of the card is blank. It's enigmatic and barely has any information, but the sight of the ink on the card is enough to get adrenaline pumping through his system. He turns the card over on a vague impulse, pausing when there's handwritten instructions written neatly on the back.

_ Step into a forest. Think of arriving at 'Sawada Tsunayoshi's residence.' The wards will let you in, they work at an international level. I look forward to meeting you! _

There's a cute little smiley face punctuating the end of the instructions, and unbidden, a smile slowly spreads across his lips. He pockets the card and makes to go back into the dining area to finish his food, but his father grabs his arm gently and forces Yamamoto to meet his eyes.

"He has handing out those cards a few months ago. Something about him reminded me of your resolve to help people ... I didn't think anything of it, but I kept the card. Remembering his earnest face wouldn't let me throw it away. He's the person who came here a few days ago and I really think you might be compatible with him." There's a pause and Yamamoto Tsuyoshi claps his son's shoulder in an attempt to lend his support. "You should go find him, dinner can wait."

There's a long pause broken by Yamamoto's guffaws and wheezing breaths. "... this whole situation sounds like something off of one of those bad American soap operas Mom used to like." Mentioning his mother isn't as painful as before and somehow, Yamamoto begins to heal, and to forgive himself for not being able to save her.

"Alright, I'll go. Don't eat my food while I'm away."

* * *

Dinner wasn't ...  _ as _  awkward as Tsuna thought it would be.

He and Gokudera were sitting on opposite sides of a behemoth of a table Tsuna's father had bought him in Italy - it was actually so large, it had to be brought overseas in pieces. Tsuna's father had bought it on a whim (as he buys  _ most _  things) and had gifted it to his son, along with matching ornate chairs. Because of its size, it didn't fit in the dining room, so Tsuna had that area converted to a waiting or reception room, while he used a room more fit for a bedroom or perhaps an office to house the table. Eating at such a large table in such obviously expensive chairs was a bit unnerving to Tsuna at first, but he'd gotten used to it after awhile.

" ... h-how's the food?" Tsuna says, in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

Gokudera's head snaps up from where he'd been shoveling food into his mouth and gaze connecting briefly with Tsuna's eyes before flickering down to stare at his lips. The look nearly  _ burns _  and Tsuna's face goes a bright red after Gokudera absentmindedly licks his own lips.

"It's  _ great _ . This is the best food I've ever had."

Flattered and flustered, Tsuna averts his own gaze to his plate of food, fumbling with a fork to spear bits of chicken and onions onto the utensil. Tsuna searches for words to reply to the werewolf with, but he can hardly focus on stringing a coherent sentence together when ' _ Hayato-kun says that's the best food he's ever had' _  is running on a rapid loop in his head.

Just as he begins to open his mouth to mumble his gratitude for the kind comment -

The doorbell rings.

* * *

Finding the forest wasn't the hard part. The tree line is easily seen from TakeSushi and hadn't taken but fifteen minutes to reach it.

Concentrating on finding the residence of the man who  _ might _  be compatible with him wasn't hard. While Yamamoto wasn't a Ward Master, someone who set up wards like the one Sawada Tsunayoshi's house operated on, he had done his fair share of house calls and had interacted with a great number of strange, or protective, or unplottable wards. Having intent to find this specific residence while sending out tendrils of magic as 'feelers' to aid in sensing when the ward let him in wasn't the hard part.

No. The hard part is trying his best to evade the  _ bugs _ . The insects indigenous to the forest must feed off of magic, for there's no other reason that Yamamoto can think of that they'd be so attracted to him. In all his life, he's never  _ regretted _  having such unique and powerful magic, but after being hounded by bugs the size of a small dog - Yamamoto is beginning to do so.

It takes him almost fifteen minutes of hiding from  _ insects, _  of all things to remember to dampen his aura so that the bugs aren't as attracted to him. The feeling is akin to trying to squeeze into a small space and _ failing _ , but it beats the alternative of having his cause of death be eating by bugs. Yamamoto never enjoys doing such a thing unless he absolutely has to - reigning in his magic is easier for those that don't have much of it, but uncomfortable or even  _ painful _  for those that do.

... how long was he supposed to walk in the forest anyway? It had been fifteen minutes; he'd been focusing on 'Sawada Tsunayoshi's residence.' What more did he need? Frustrated, he pulls out the card he'd placed in his pocket, leaning back onto the trunk of a nearby tree to re-read the instructions on the back of the card. In the evening light filtered through the leaves of the trees, reading is somewhat of a hardship. Yamamoto manages, but dejectedly finds that the instructions were the same as before, which does absolutely  _ zilch _  to help him out.

More resigned now than frustrated, Yamamoto puts the card back in his pocket, letting the back of his head hit the rough bark of the tree behind him. The bright greens and sprawling, beautiful forest was wonderful - but not exactly what he was looking for.

Just as he's about to close his eyes and give up, he sees something in his peripherals, something large, wooden, but  _ definitely _  not a tree. He turns unceremoniously, nearly tripping on the overgrown foliage at his feet, bright smile realizing what exactly he's looking at.

It's a  _ house _ .

It's probably  _ Sawada Tsunayoshi's _  house.

With a spring to his step, Yamamoto continues his short trek to the house not even a kilometer from him, nearly  _ shaking _  in anticipation.

He reaches the front door of the house in record timing, hesitating for just a moment before pressing the doorbell perhaps harder than necessary in nervousness. He shifts from foot to foot and lets his magic unfurl from where he'd been keeping it in close quarters with himself. This Sawada Tsunayoshi has likely warded his property so none of the magic-eating bugs can get in, and his magic needs to be loose to determine if he's compatible with this other Magical Doctor.

* * *

"Huh? I wonder who that could be." Tsuna stands and makes his way out of the dining room and down the winding halls, crossing the waiting room at the very front of the house to get to the door. Gokudera, of course, follows him, trailing just a half step behind him and hovering over his shoulder. Honestly, if Tsuna didn't like the werewolf so much, he'd be very irritated at this breach of personal space.

"It's probably a salesperson. You should ignore it." Gokudera says sagely from behind Tsuna's left shoulder.

Tsuna aims a half-exasperated, half-fond look at the werewolf. "Hayato-kun!" He scolds good-naturedly. "That'd be rude. I'm sure this will only take a few minutes, if you'd like to go back to eating."

Gokudera, in turn, aims an incredulous look at the smaller human. "What kind of mate would I be if I let you come in contact with a potentially violent person? No, I think I'll stay here."

Tsuna snorts and begins the arduous process to open his front door. First, all the knobs need to be turned to the left, except the fourth, eighth, third, and sixth one, which need to be turned to the right. Once all the doorknobs are turned in the correct direction, Tsuna needs to feed his magic into the slot under the ninth doorknob so the wards on his property can read his magic, verifying him as the owner of the house. After all that's done, Tsuna can heft the door open if he puts his back into it.

And that's exactly what he does, although he certainly doesn't expect the surprise waiting for him on the other side of the door.

* * *

It takes a painfully long time for the door to open, but when it does, the stream of gentle, warm magic that drifts out to entangle in his equally outstretched magic is  _ very  _ worth it. The two complementary magics coil and twine together in an amalgamation of a hug, the ghost of the sensation makes Yamamoto shiver.

Speechless, Yamamoto stares at the diminutive man in front of him, feeling as if he'd found something he hadn't even known he'd lost.

_ So this is what it feels like ... being compatible with someone ... _

* * *

"Thank you for letting me use your private jet, Reborn."

"I was headed this direction anyway, it seemed only fair I'd do this for you, after all you've done for me."

"Still. I appreciate it. Is this ... goodbye for now?"

"I'm afraid so. I have other business in this town, so I won't be able to aid in your search for your brother."

"That's fine. I feel like I should do this myself anyway. Thank you ... for all you've done so far."

Here, there's a pause. Then, almost soundless, a man in a tailored black suit and fedora moves in one direction, while a striking woman in distressed leather pants and a over-sized jacket moves in another.

And although they've parted on amicable terms, not once do either one of them turn to look back at the other.


	4. Yamamoto vs. Gokudera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, PLEASE help me with the creatures for the rest of the enormous KHR cast im so lost ;u;

There's only a moment of silence before it's broken by the man's half hysterical, half elated laughter.

The raucous sound breaks the tense, silent atmosphere and Tsuna immediately comes back to himself, the distant sound of bugs buzzing and nymphs splashing in the nearby pond now suddenly audible, where before he'd been too mesmerized and hyper-focused by the familiar warm brown eyes of the man and the feel of his magic to notice anything else. Embarrassed and flustered, Tsuna hopes desperately that no one had seen him  _ swoon _  or had noticed that his knees had buckled – and that the only thing holding him upright was his white-knuckled grip on his doorknob. He exhales shakily, pulling himself upright slowly, goosebumps rising along his arms and neck at the phantom feeling of his magic and the man's intertwining. It's a sensation he's never quite felt before and he feels exposed – almost naked in a way. The sensation of his and another person's magic coiling and twining together feels intimate, heady, and  _ certainly _  not something to do in front of company.

With that thought, Tsuna hazards a look at Gokudera, wincing when he sees the werewolf nearly snarling with his tail sticking straight out, like a hunting dog that had caught sight of prey, or something unsightly.

He sighs inaudibly, opening the door a bit wider and glancing back at the man. "I – um. Come in?"

At the words, Gokudera deflates, his ears and tail drooping – looking almost comically betrayed. "T-T- _ Tsuna _  – this guy … he could be – he could be  _ dangerous _ , we shouldn't just –"

"Hayato-kun," Tsuna says quietly, placing a hesitant hand on Gokudera's forearm – not noticing how the werewolf immediately calmed at the touch. "I can't just  _ leave  _ him out there – "

"You  _ could _  –" Gokudera mutters petulantly, which Tsuna ignores.

"And besides we need to talk about … um. I mean, it shouldn't take too long and then we can go back to eating." Tsuna aims another glance at the stranger, only half visible, as the sun had set quite some time ago, and the only light to illuminate the man was light from inside. He opens the door wider and steps to the side so the stranger can come inside, giving the man what is  _ hopefully _  a welcoming smile. "Please, come in, I'm Sawada – "

"Tsunayoshi, you're – Sawada Tsunayoshi." The man steps inside, crooked grin adorning his lips, eyes on Tsuna. He doesn't even glance over at Gokudera – who is having a fit at the stranger knowing Tsuna's name.

"S-s-s _ talker! _  Tsuna, this guy is a  _ stalker  _ – "

At Gokudera's accusation, the man laughs, finally glancing at the werewolf and showing them both the one of the cards Tsuna had so haphazardly made advertising his practice. "Close," the man says, clearly amused by the notion Gokudera had proposed. "But no, I just followed the instructions on the back of this card. I'm – "

There was something so familiar about the man's voice, his eyes, and his  _ smile _  … Tsuna felt like he knew the man from somewhere, someplace. When it finally clicked as to who the man was, he could help but to interrupt the man in the same manner he had been interrupted. "You're  _ Yamamoto Takeshi _ ! I've followed … I've followed your career since you got your certification – " And even before then – Tsuna and Yamamoto had gone to the same middle and high school and he'd always harbored no small amount of admiration for the other man, although Tsuna doubted Yamamoto remembered him from school. "Your work is – your  _ magi _ c is … it's  _ incredible  _ – I – " Tsuna cuts himself off in embarrassment, averting his eyes, cheeks a bright red. He hadn't meant to babble, and he's sure that Yamamoto and Gokudera hadn't wanted to hear his sputtered sentences.

There's only a tiny pause until Yamamoto begins speaking once more. "You … "

At his words, Tsuna glances up, goosebumps rising once more when he makes eye-contact with Yamamoto's eyes, which seem so much more intense than they did before. He nearly looks away to escape that gaze, but find that he  _ can't _ .

After a moment, Yamamoto continues. " … think my magic is incredible?" At the mention of his magic, it pulses and coils tighter around Tsuna's own, sinuously stimulating.

"N- _ nngh  _ – wha …  _ you _  – " The sensation of Yamamoto's magic and his, intertwined so tightly together, is so much more heady and intimate than it was before, and unsurprisingly, his knees buckle. Without his white-knuckled grip on the doorknob, Tsuna begins to fall and after only  _ seconds _  of falling, Yamamoto darts forward to catch him, hands firm but gentle where they're gripping Tsuna's arms.

Yamamoto's gentleness belies his magic's almost aggressive coiling and when Tsuna presses a burning cheek to Yamamoto's chest to try and get used to the sensation, the other man's magic tightens around Tsuna's even further.

Two things happen simultaneously: Tsuna tightens his grip on Yamamoto's shirt and he  _ whimpers _ , the feeling of Yamamoto's magic curling around his own so tightly nearly a sensation overload.

"O-oi! Quit touching Tsuna!" Gokudera loudly makes his presence known, shoving Yamamoto to the side and gathering Tsuna in his arms. Once again, noise breaks the atmosphere created and shared by Yamamoto and Tsuna, and once the seductive atmosphere is broken and their magic ceases interacting, Tsuna tries to compose himself once more, muttering a 'thank you' to Gokudera and smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in his slacks. He tries to calm the burning in his cheeks and stop blushing, but to no avail – another quick glance at Yamamoto and his intense eyes only makes his cheeks turn more red and burn hotter.

"Are – are you hungry?" Tsuna clears his throat and wills his burning cheeks to cool. "We were having dinner when you rang the doorbell and there's some still left if you want any … if you're hungry."

Yamamoto gives Tsuna this small, warm smile, like he could listen to Tsuna babble all day and not get bored or irritated of it. "I'm not," he says, eyes no less intense but much more fond, magic reaching out to Tsuna once more in a gentle, soft caress. "But I'm a bit thirsty – could I have a glass of water?"

Yamamoto punctuates the question with his magic giving Tsuna's a tiny, tight squeeze. His expression remains unchanged – but Tsuna has the strangest feeling that mischievousness lurks beneath his kind smile. As it was, Tsuna just barely manages to cover another whimper at the feeling of Yamamoto's magic intertwining with his so roughly, instead faking a coughing fit and shoving his face into his shoulder – hoping that no one had heard the sound escape his lips.

And of course, the sound of Tsuna coughing sends Gokudera into a frenzy. "Tsuna – Tsuna, are you alright? It was this bastard – this bastard made you sick, didn't he?!" He even frantically tries to check Tsuna's pulse (and incorrectly at that – he tried to do so using his thumb instead of his pointer and middle finger) and temperature, wailing about how Tsuna's stalker got him sick.

Despite himself, Tsuna laughs – something that he hasn't done in such a long time … or perhaps it just feels that way? At any rate, the sound of Tsuna's near  _ angelic _  laughter has Gokudera freezing in the middle of a word and steadily turning red, red, and redder.

"Hayato-kun – I'm  _ fine _ . My throat is just dry, that's all." And then, in a nearly transparent effort to change the subject, he says, "why don't we go and finish eating? The food is probably getting cold."

"I – yes." Gokudera agrees, strangely pliant, as Tsuna leads him back to the dining room, Yamamoto – and his magic – trailing behind Tsuna.

They make it back to the dining room without any mishaps, or mischievousness on Yamamoto's part, and Tsuna opens the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to disrupt the quiet atmosphere or have Yamamoto and Gokudera start bickering again.

Once the door is open, Gokudera darts over to Tsuna's seat – and nearly trips on the ornate magical rug under the table that is only there and visible when it wants to, the fickle thing – pulling it out, whilst his tail starts slowly behind him.

At Gokudera's earnest expression and continued silence, Tsuna's cheeks begin to burn again – not sure what to expect. "Thank you, Hayato-kun," Tsuna finally says, walking to his chair and taking a seat – completely unprepared for Gokudera to push the chair back in so that Tsuna could comfortably reach his plate.

"Where should I sit?" Yamamoto asks from his place just barely a step inside a dining room. At the sound of his voice, Tsuna blinks and turns fully towards the man – or as much as he's able, Gokudera had truly pushed his chair in as much as he could – expression stricken.

"I – I forgot your water –" Tsuna says haltingly, making to get up and go get the man a glass of water.

Instead of getting angry, the man laughs and comes to sit to the chair to Tsuna's left, angling it towards Tsuna and pulling it as close as possible to the other man. Once Yamamoto is settled in his seat, he leans forward, placing his chin in the palm of his hand, unintentionally blocking view of Tsuna for Gokudera, who is three seats away on Tsuna's right and having an apoplectic fit at how close Yamamoto is getting. "That's okay," Yamamoto murmurs, tone almost  _ seductive _ . "That can come later." With his tone and how close he is, Yamamoto's words seemed to be quite suggestive … and unsurprisingly, Tsuna turns a bright, cherry red – unused to such attention.

Even at the meager distance Yamamoto and Gokudera, a human wouldn't have likely heard the words said at such a low volume. But, unfortunately for Yamamoto, Gokudera's hearing is excellent – even for a werewolf. At the sound of such suggestive words, Gokudera jumps from his seat, throwing his chair backwards, where it's inexplicably swallowed by the rug beneath them and disappears.

"Y-y- _ you _  pervert! You pervert stalker! How d _ are _  – get away from Tsuna – You –!"

Again, Yamamoto seems amused by Gokudera's accusations, the words not offending him. "Haha, you sure are protective, aren't you? And didn't I tell you I just followed the directions on the back of Tsuna's business card – "

"Don't use his name so familiarly!"

"And pervert? That's … new." Yamamoto looks so completely amused by the notion that Tsuna doesn't  _ think _  he's offended, but still, being called a pervert has to sting! Just as Tsuna is about to open his mouth and admonish Gokudera for the insult, Yamamoto turns back to him and his magic reaches out to teasingly caress his own. Yamamoto looks completely innocent as his magic acts completely  _ indecent _ , twining further around Tsuna's magic. The feeling of such a thing makes Tsuna swallow the words he'd been about to say and reach for his glass of water and begin to gulp it down.

Yamamoto chooses that moment to have his magic more firmly grasp at Tsuna's, and the sensation makes Tsuna spit a mouthful of water on his (probably expensive – but he'd never seen the price, so he couldn't say such a thing definitively) table. This, of course, sends Gokudera to his side and he alternates between rubbing Tsuna's back and glaring heatedly at Yamamoto, who just grins back.

"What did he do?!" Gokudera asks Tsuna and not even taking the time to wait for a reply, he turns to Yamamoto, waving a fist at him. "You pervert! Don't you even look at Tsuna! Don't you even think about him, you perverted stalker!"

Completely unbothered, Yamamoto responds with something flippant to Gokudera, which of course, just makes the werewolf angrier. Tsuna simply sighs and begins to eat his somewhat cold dinner, tuning the two out. It's only after Tsuna is finished eating that he notices that the argument has calmed somewhat and he glances up from his empty plate at the other man and the werewolf.

Gokudera looks somewhat satisfied and Yamamoto is grinning still, so Tsuna figures that they must have come to a consensus about whatever they were arguing about. Gokudera makes to go back to his seat, but freezes only a step away. Thinking that something must be wrong with Gokudera, Tsuna begins to rise from his seat, but stops halfway at the sound of Gokudera's voice.

"Hey – where's my chair?"

* * *

 

It takes only about fifteen minutes for Gokudera to finish his dinner, even with his significantly larger portion, and he insists on doing the dishes, which Tsuna absolutely refuses to let him do. This, of course, leads to Gokudera insisting upon doing the dishes – not wanting to impose on Tsuna, Tsuna refusing again and again to that request, and Yamamoto laughing in the background.

Eventually, they reach a compromise. After twenty minutes.

It's decided that Tsuna will wash the dishes and Gokudera will dry them. With nothing else to do after getting his glass of water, Yamamoto lurks in the kitchen with the other two, leaning against the counters, watching Tsuna wash dishes with a secretive grin.

"So, this is where you practice?" Yamamoto asks after finishing his water.

"Well, no. I mean, yes. Not in the kitchen, but in other rooms." Tsuna answers, flustered and a bit embarrassed. It must seem weird to Yamamoto for him to practice as a healer in his home, when the man probably had state of the art equipment as a magical doctor in Namimori's premier hospital. "It's ... it's probably not as fancy as where you work, but –"

"I want to work with you."

There's a pause while Tsuna digests that statement, his grip on a soapy plate lax.

"Wait,  _ what _  –?"

* * *

 

Bianchi is steadily getting closer to finding her brother. His scent is heavy and concentrated on a few streets, which had admittedly thrown her off for awhile, but she wasn't her brother's Alpha for nothing – she'd picked up a scent trail towards a local sushi restaurant tinged with a familiar irritation that only her baby brother could produce. The trail must be fresh ... scents that were imbued with emotions never lasted long before going stale.

She stops when the scent becomes strangely concentrated in a random spot on the street, nostrils flaring at the scent of ...  _ iron _ . Of  _ blood _ .

Her eyes narrow and she kneels, easily spotting the red-brown of dried blood on the sidewalk. She reaches out slowly and swipes at the stain, her own blood boiling at the thought of someone hurting her little brother.

And although the blood was only but a few drops, Bianchi Gokudera vowed in that moment that the person who had harmed her brother would pay.

No one harmed her beta, her  _ brother _ , without retribution.

* * *

 

Halfway around the world from where Bianchi vows revenge over a mere drop of blood, in an undisclosed location, a business meeting is taking place.

Or ... it was.

" _ WAHHHHHHHH!  _ It hurts! I want Tsuna!"

Unfortunately, for those trying to curry Lambo's father's favor, Lambo had tripped and fallen down the stairs and chipped his horn, an injury that even made Lambo's father wince. Horn injury's were nothing to joke about – horn's were the most sensitive part of a minotaur's body and not easily injured, for they were made of reinforced bone. Lambo, however, still had his 'baby horns,' which were much more sensitive and fragile than they would be as an adult and injuring them was probably one of the most painful injuries he'd had to date.

"Of course," Lambo's father whispers to Lambo, hefting the boy into his arms gently where he quiets and begins to cry silently into the lapels of his father's suit. "Of  _ course _ , bambino. We will table the discussion for now, yes?" He says to his business partners, who immediately nod, not willing to argue with the 'Horned Beast of Sicily.'

With the conversation essentially over, Lambo's father quickly heads to the door and to his car, where his subordinates quickly open the door to the car, fussing over Lambo's broken horn. At the sound of Lambo beginning to cry louder, Lambo's father quickly gets in the car without trying to jostle his son. His subordinates follow suit, one heading to the front to drive, another sliding in beside his boss, an ice pack held out like an offering. After a moment, everyone's settled inside the car, Lambo calms once more, and the car pulls out onto the street with the tires screeching.

* * *

 

In a lavish hotel room, not far from where Bianchi is still searching for her brother, Reborn lounges on an inordinately large bed, fully dressed except for his suit jacket, which hangs nearby in the large closet and fedora, which lays on his stomach. Although his facial expression is nearly  _ blank _ , his eyes burn intensely and his frustrations cause him to rise from his bed and begin pacing.

Around a week ago, there had been a sudden spike in magic originating in Namimori that Reborn had felt even across the world in Italy. It had reached out to him, touched him, and Reborn had quickly deduced that the owner of said magic was compatible with him.  _ That _  was what had prompted his sudden visit to Namimori and so far, he hadn't been able to find the owner of that bright, beautiful, and  _ welcoming _  magic that had reached out so softly to him. Granted, he hadn't been here long – not even a day, but Reborn was impatient.

And wasn't  _ that _  a disconcerting notion. Him being  _ impatient _ . Reborn was the definition of patient. It was essentially a job requirement. One needed to be patient to do the job half as well as he did and Reborn  _ excelled  _ at his job. So yes, being impatient was a strange feeling – but not a bad one. It would simply make the moment when he met the owner of  _ that _  magic much better.

Reborn stops his pacing with that thought, striding over to his closet to grab his suit jacket and fedora, shrugging it on effortlessly – and not missing a beat, he steps into the shadows and onto the street, placing his fedora onto his head with one hand while he buttons his jacket with the other. A smirk tugs at his lips and his eyes glint unseen, half of his face hidden by the shadow of his fedora.

Let the search begin.

* * *

 

"A carnivore has moved into our territory."

"… Namimori?"

A scoff. "Where else?"

A pause. "We do have other territories, Kyoya. I was just making certain."

"I don't care about those other places."

A pause. "I know." A sigh. "Giotto needs to be informed about this."

"… ?"

"His favorite descendant lives in Namimori. He likes to keep tabs on him. Inform Alaude and Giotto of this new development and go investigate this 'carnivore.' I'll follow after I finish things up here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think yall are ready for lambos DILF dad
> 
> (for reference, i imagine him as jason momoa)

Tsuna’s magic developed early. 

Usually, this wasn’t an issue, but if the magic developed before the body, it could cause complications. Tsuna’s magic was almost fully developed by the time he turned nine and housing fully mature magic in an immature body was excruciating at times. 

There was no cure – but there _ were _ treatment options. 

His magic could either be sealed or he could take suppressants. Both were terrible options – options that at nine, he didn’t really understand. At nine, he’d only been desperate for the pain to stop. 

After some deliberation and many sleepless nights, wishing she could ask her husband for advice (he had called her not three months ago saying he was on extended leave in a class 5 magical zone – meaning no technology would operate in the immediate area and therefore no telephone calls), Nana picked what she thought was the lesser of the two evils. 

Sealing. 

Suppressants, although legal, were first and foremost a  _ drug _ . Pills or injections to be taken on a schedule, whose dosage may have to be adjusted as Tsuna got older. Although effective, suppressants had been proven time and time again to be  _ addictive _ and taking them for too long after the magic settled around twenty would have adverse effects on the body and could permanently stunt a person’s magic. 

Sealing, on the other hand, was a spell in which the caster could set conditions, such as hitting a certain age or hormone balance that meant puberty was over. Sealing could still adversely affect the patient, because it was still fooling the body into thinking that the magic was underdeveloped or simply not there – which could cause no small amount of psychological damage. 

But Nana had no choice. Her baby boy was in pain  _ constantly _ and she had to choose the option that would do the lease amount of damage. Or at least that’s what she told herself when, after the magical doctor got done sealing Tsuna’s magic, her son’s complexion had immediately greyed and his eyes had dulled. 

At nine, Tsuna didn’t really understand what was happening, not even when the doctor and his mom sat him down and tried to explain it to him. His magic was hurting him, his mother told him, the operation will be painless, the doctor said – Tsuna just wanted the pain to go away, wanted to stop feeling like there were a million ants crawling under his skin trying to get out. 

And the doctor was right – the operation was painless. But when Tsuna woke up again, he didn’t even feel like himself. His arms felt heavy and he could barely move his legs – and it felt like he was missing something. An ache had burst into existence in the center of his chest and no matter what he did, it didn’t go away. Tsuna had been hopeful that the bleakness, the longing, the clumsiness would pass once he got used to the seal. 

It didn’t. 

It only got worse. 

Although he hadn’t been terribly popular in school, he had a few friends that had been sad to see him go once his illness progressed to the point where he couldn’t attend classes anymore. That changed once he had gotten back. Where once before he had been vibrant and buzzing with energy, he was now clumsy and slow to think, slow to act. 

Soon, no child wanted to be friends with him. 

Eventually, he was known as No-Good Tsuna. 

And in middle school and high school when others around him were growing into their magic and learning who around them was compatible with them – Tsuna felt nothing. His magic was but a phantom limb, something he knew he was supposed to feel but didn’t. His classmates quickly caught onto the fact that Tsuna’s magical signature hadn’t changed since elementary and they wrongly assumed that Tsuna had no magic. 

For a while, the bullying got worse. 

For a while, Tsuna hated the fact that his magic was sealed. Every time it was revealed that one classmate was compatible with another, it felt almost like a physical pain for Tsuna – who wanted nothing more than the intimacy that compatibility assured. 

For months, Tsuna would dream of someone who would love him. Would be his friend. 

Tsuna endured being sealed for almost eleven years when the seal suddenly broke. 

And then, everything changed. 

* * *

“How is your garden coming along, Mom?” Tsuna has his cellphone wedged between the side of his head and his shoulder while simultaneously trying cook breakfast. It doesn’t work as well as he’d hoped – especially since he keeps getting distracted by his mother speaking or breakfast almost burning. 

“Hmm? Oh, Tsu-kun, it’s coming along wonderful!” His mom sounds so happy, so  _ genuinely _ happy and it’s so different than the way she had forced cheerfulness that she’d worn like an armor through the course of his illness and subsequent sealing that he has to smile along with her. “I’ll have to bring over some carrots. They’ve really taken to the soil! But enough about my garden – I heard from a little birdie that two handsome young men moved in with you!” 

“Mom.” Tsuna smile immediately vanishes, replaced by an embarrassed flush. “I’ve told you to stop sending Rin-chan to spy on me!” His mother’s familiar is a beautiful mini-firebird named Rin-chan – a familiar who likes to sneak into his house through his chimney and spy on him. Rin-chan is a haughty, elegant bird who can speak perfect Japanese and helped raise Tsuna in his father’s absence. It’s sort of a toss-up on who is more protective of him – his mom, or his mom’s familiar. 

And the only thing that’s worse than a mini-firebird being  _ protective _ of him is a mini-firebird _ spying _ on him. 

Tsuna  _ knew _ someone had been in his fireplace recently. 

Dammit. 

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, because it’s not that he’s  _ ashamed _ of his mom or her familiar or even of Gokudera or Yamamoto, but he doesn’t know if Gokudera or Yamamoto are planning on staying for an extended period of time and he doesn’t want his mother to get attached. 

Because quite honestly, it’s too late to stop himself from being attached to Yamamoto or Gokudera. He’s been attached for a while now and although he wouldn’t stop either of them from leaving, it would …  _ hurt _ if they did.  __

Tsuna sighs again and his mother giggles, mistaking the meaning behind it for exasperation at Rin-chan’s spying. Despite himself, Tsuna’s lips quirk up a bit at the sound of his mother’s laughter. 

“Tsu-kun!” His mother tries scolding, though it doesn’t quite work out since she sounds so happy. “You should know by now that Rin-chan does what she wants!”

“So you’re saying that you don’t ask Rin-chan for any details after she comes back home from spying on me?” Tsuna shifts his grip on his phone – pressing his shoulder closer in to his ear in an effort to stop said phone from falling to the ground as Tsuna turns the burner off and washes his hands. Breakfast was almost everything Tsuna could find and make easily after frantically googling ‘European breakfast’ – so eggs (scrambled, after Tsuna had failed at sunny-side up), bacon, sausage, and toast. He’d even tried to make scones in the oven, but they probably wouldn’t turn out as good as Tsuna had hoped. And just in case everything Tsuna had made was completely inedible, Tsuna made something even  _ he _ couldn’t mess up – rice and warming up some leftover miso soup from yesterday.

But for Gokudera he’d at least  _ try _ to make a more western style of breakfast. The man had been different since Yamamoto had started living with them a few days ago. Sadder. Tsuna didn’t like it.

“Well, maybe,” Tsuna’s mom says and and the sound of her voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “But you never tell me anything! We’re just curious about your life!” 

“You could just  _ ask _ me instead of spying on me,” Tsuna grumbles, wiping wet hands onto the towel he’d tossed earlier onto the counter. With his free hand, Tsuna grabs the phone where it’s squished between his shoulder and ear and switches the call to speaker so that he can set his phone down on the counter while he sets the table. “If you just asked about my life you’d find out that it’s not nearly as interesting as you or Rin-chan think it is,” Tsuna chides his mother, speaking louder so she can hear him as he sets the table. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that!” Nana laughs, the sound airy and bright, though it’s a bit warped by the telephone call. Still, it makes Tsuna smile. “Rin-chan told me the two men staying with you are really handsome!”

Tsuna’s ears burn at that. The thought of his mother and her familiar gossiping about his guests is really quite embarrassing. “Well, I –“ Tsuna interrupts himself with a squeak as a heavy, but now familiar weight settles across his shoulders. Yamamoto really did have the worst habit of draping himself all over Tsuna at the first opportunity. 

“Takeshi!” Tsuna yelps, flushing an even brighter red, hoping that his mother didn’t hear any of that. 

No such luck. 

“Oh~ Am I interrupting something?” His mother teases and Tsuna can just imagine how she’s going to tell Rin-chan all about this later. 

“N-no!” Tsuna is very quick to say, trying his best to ignore the very sleepy Yamamoto nuzzling at the back of his neck. Thankfully, Yamamoto is too tired to consider coiling his magic around Tsuna’s, but Tsuna can still feel it brush against Tsuna’s through their skin contact. Not an unpleasant sensation, but also not one he wants to have while his mother is on the phone with him. “Takeshi just woke up and is going to help me set the table,  _ right _ Takeshi?” 

Yamamoto’s sleepy grumble proves that he’s not entirely awake and despite himself, Tsuna smiles at that. A month ago, he never would have imagined that he’d have found someone whose magic was compatible with his, nor would he have imagined that he’d have a werewolf intent on proving himself to be a good mate – or that they would  _ both _ be living with him. It’s a change, but a good one. It reminds him of the years in school when he thought he would be alone until he died. 

Tsuna pats Yamamoto’s hand where it’s griping his waist, still smiling – though it’s gone softer at the still quite painful memories. His mom had always said that things would get better – but Tsuna had never believed her. Now, it seemed everything had worked out – without him even trying! 

“Hey, mom, I’m going to have to –“ Tsuna feels Yamamoto startle behind him, tightening his grip on Tsuna’s waist as he does so. The sudden movement startles Tsuna as well, and he blinks – forgetting his train of thought. “Um, I –“ 

“You’re talking to your mom?” Yamamoto asks quietly, close enough that Tsuna imagines he can almost  _ feel  _ Yamamoto’s lips form the words against his neck. 

“Y-yes?” Tsuna murmurs, trying not to squirm as Yamamoto’s magic begins to wake with its owner, coiling around Tsuna’s. It’s not nearly as sensual as it could be – more comforting than anything – but again, not something he wanted to happen in front of his mother, even if she was only on the phone and not in the room with them.  

“… you didn’t tell me you were talking to your mom.” Yamamoto says into his ear, gripping him just a bit tighter. “I wanted to make a better first impression on my future mother in-law.” 

Tsuna blinks at that, almost hopelessly confused as to why  _ his _ mom would be Yamamoto’s future mother in-law – but then it hits him like a bolt of lightning and Tsuna immediately understands the implications of what Yamamoto said. 

If Yamamoto’s mother in-law was  _ his _ mom, that would mean that he and Yamamoto were  _ married _ … and Yamamoto’s statement means that he wants to  _ marry _ Tsuna. That he  _ likes  _ Tsuna enough to marry him.

At the thought, Tsuna’s ears burn even redder and as his embarrassment crests, his magic crackle just above his skin – managing to puff his hair out two sizes bigger from the residual static electricity. It’s some sort of vestigial magic from his mother’s side of the family – well known for their weather and protection magic – that, for his ancestors, was supposed to scare away any predators that got close with a bit of lightning. 

On Tsuna, it just manages to make him look even  _ less _ threatening, because with fluffier hair than normal and his stature, the only predators he could scare away are ones that have a soft spot for cute things. 

Not that Tsuna will ever admit that he’s cute. 

Behind him, still holding him as close as physically possible, Yamamoto makes a questioning noise – likely confused by how Tsuna’s hair was probably suddenly in his mouth. 

“I-I – you can talk to my mom,” Tsuna says,  _ knowing _ that this won’t end well, but he also knows that if Gokudera came downstairs and saw Yamamoto embracing Tsuna that a fight would break out in his kitchen. Therefore, Tsuna had to concede somewhere in order to win elsewhere. 

Equivalent exchange and all that. 

“I have to finish setting the table anyway. Just –“ Tsuna turns his head so that he can see half of Yamamoto’s face. He twists his features into the sternest expression in his arsenal, though it’s likely as menacing as a puppy in a sweater. “Just … be nice. Please.” 

Yamamoto nods, and from their proximity, it almost feels like Yamamoto had instead kissed his neck – or would have, if Tsuna hadn’t also felt Yamamoto’s head move behind him. “She’ll be family soon,” Yamamoto says with no small amount of conviction. “I want to make a good first impression. I don’t want her to think I’m not a good match for you.” 

Tsuna scoffs, reluctantly pulling himself out of Yamamoto’s arms so that he can grab his phone off of the counter, swipe the speaker phone option off, and hand said phone to Yamamoto. “Our magic is compatible. I don’t know if we could be a better match if we tried.” 

Yamamoto smiles at that – the expression sort of makes Tsuna’s stomach feel all fluttery – and when he reaches out to grab the phone from Tsuna, their hands brush. Somehow this contact feels almost as intimate as their magic twining together, likely due to the skin-to-skin contact and the fact that for magic users, most of the magical sensory nerves are in the pads of their fingers and palms. It’s why breaking a mage’s hand is one of the most grievous wounds one can inflict on a magic user. 

Stupefied and just a little bit dazzled by the feel of Yamamoto touching his  _ very _ sensitive hand, Tsuna doesn’t even notice Yamamoto leaving the kitchen until he’s gone. Then he realizes he’s standing in the middle of his kitchen, hand out-stretched, and looking like an idiot. He shakes his head and tries to push the lingering feeling of Yamamoto’s magic to the side. 

It doesn’t work. 

Tsuna sighs.

It’s  _ really _ going to hurt when Yamamoto leaves for good if Tsuna’s magic (and Tsuna himself, if he’s being perfectly honestly) can’t stand it when the man is gone for not even a minute. 

He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.  _ If _ he gets to it, because Yamamoto has all but moved in completely with Tsuna at this point and it looks like he has no intention of leaving anytime soon. 

And that’s such a wonderful thought – that Yamamoto  _ and _ Gokudera won’t leave him – that he finishes setting the table in record time with what Tsuna imagines to be the dorkiest love-struck expression. 

By the time Gokudera sleepily trudges down the stairs, Tsuna has nearly finished transferring the massive amount of food he’d made to the dining room table. Although he’s clearly not fully awake, he has nothing but sleepy smiles for Tsuna as he makes his way towards the smaller man. His tail even starts to slowly wag behind him once he notices Tsuna is wearing the very frilly apron Tsuna’s mother bought for him. 

“Oh! Good morning, Hayato-kun!” Tsuna smiles at the sleepy werewolf as he makes his way towards Tsuna, eyes only half-open. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Mm.” Gokudera grunts, crowding in close enough that he can sniff at Tsuna’s hair and neck. “Smells good here. Smells like home.” 

“You have bedhead,” Tsuna says fondly, instead of replying to a statement that Tsuna suspects has much more weight to weres than it ever would to Tsuna. Unable to help himself, Tsuna reaches up to try and rearrange Gokudera’s hair into some form of tidiness – although he just manages to scratch at Gokudera’s furred ear instead. 

The result is instantaneous.  

Gokudera crowds even closer to Tsuna, warm and so much taller than him that he has to hunch over to press his ear into Tsuna’s hand – petal soft lips accidently brushing his forehead as he does so. 

Tsuna gulps. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The pads of fingers, usually only sensitive when in contact with other magic, are abuzz with sensation – and the soft, fine fur of Gokudera’s ear certainly isn’t helping his hypersensitivity. 

“O-oh.” Tsuna breathes. It almost feels like the twining of two compatible magics, like what his magic feels like every time it comes in contact with Yamamoto’s – except, of course, Gokudera doesn’t have magic. “I – um. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to  _ pet _ you, I just –“ 

“Don’t be sorry,” Gokudera says, though it’s more like a whisper, murmured against Tsuna’s skin. “Feels good.” 

And of course this – Gokudera standing as close to Tsuna as physically possible, caging him against the counter with deceptively strong arms with his eyes closed in bliss as Tsuna touches his ear – is what Yamamoto sees when he walks back into the kitchen. 

He’s done with talking to Tsuna’s mother, if the hand holding Tsuna’s cell at his side instead of his ear is any indication – though the sound of plastic cracking as Yamamoto takes in the situation is certainly not a good sign. 

Tsuna just hopes Gokudera and Yamamoto don’t end up brawling in his kitchen. It had been equipped with all of the latest kitchen gadgets by his father and Tsuna doesn’t think he’d be so keen to replace them if they were broken. 

“Oh.  _ You’re _ up.” Yamamoto aims a smile at Gokudera, though it falters when Gokudera doesn’t reply and instead just nuzzles Tsuna. “I was hoping that you’d sleep through breakfast and I’d have Tsuna all to myself.” 

“Fuck off,” It’s said with not nearly vitriol as Gokudera usually aims at Yamamoto. As a reward, Tsuna scratches Gokudera’s ear again – biting his lip at the feel of the downy fur against his hypersensitive fingers. Gokudera groans and shuffles even closer. At this point, there’s not even a centimeter of space between the two of them. 

A few steps away, Yamamoto is still smiling – though it looks rather frozen on his face – and Tsuna can just  _ barely _ hear his phone cracking in Yamamoto’s unforgiving grip. 

“Breakfast!” Tsuna reluctantly removes his hand out of Gokudera’s hair, trying to ease the tension that he can see in the lines of Yamamoto’s body, even as he’s smiling. “W-we should eat breakfast before it gets cold!”

At the sound of his voice, Yamamoto’s eyes shift back to Tsuna and they warm at the sight of Tsuna’s flushed, flustered face. “Alright. Let’s eat.” 

It’s then that Tsuna begins to smell something strange. For a moment, Tsuna just stands still, nose-upturned trying to parse what exactly said smell could be. It almost smells like something is burning… 

His eyes widen. 

“My scones!” Tsuna scrambles for the oven door – accidentally shoving Gokudera off of him – and throws it open, hoping against hope that his baked treat could somehow be saved. 

But at the site of the scones he’d worked so hard to make, Tsuna knows that they won’t be salvageable. They’re blackened to a crisp and Tsuna tries to convince himself it’s just the heat of the oven that makes his eyes water, but he’s not very good at lying – not even to himself. 

Truth be told, it’s not so much as the scones burning that’s making him upset, but the reason behind why he’d wanted to make the scones in the first place. 

Gokudera is sad. Or well, not as happy as he was the first few nights he was staying with Tsuna. 

He must be so homesick … that’s why Tsuna wanted to make some food that reminded him of home to make him happier. 

But now Tsuna failed and now Gokudera is probably going to leave him and go back to Europe where he can get scones that aren’t barely more than charcoal. 

He sniffs, shutting off the oven, and turning on the ventilation fan before the fire alarm can go off. He debates on just leaving the scones in the oven, but decides against it. At this point, he just really wants to toss the scones in the trash. So he takes them out and sets them on the burner, glaring at them with his hands on his hips – willing the stupid pastries to become un-burnt, but they remain blackened and burnt, the stubborn little things. 

“ … you made scones?” Gokudera asks behind him, voice strangely hushed. 

“I tried.” Tsuna turns so that he can see Gokudera and Yamamoto, both wearing difficult to read expressions. “You can see how well  _ that _ turned out.” 

“But … “ Gokudera looks confused. Without his glasses, his green eyes look even brighter than normal. “Why? You’ve never made them before.”

“I-I … I made them for you.” Tsuna frowns and averts eye-contact so that he doesn’t have to see Gokudera’s disappointed expression once he realizes Tsuna ruined the scones and messed up the attempt at alleviated Gokudera’s homesickness. “You’ve been sad lately. I wanted to make you feel better.” 

“Tsuna –“ And Gokudera just sounds so  _ fond _ and not at all angry that Tsuna looks up and is surprised to see a small grin on his face. He reaches for Tsuna’s wrist, and when he grabs it, tugs Tsuna closer so that he can escort the smaller man out of the still smoky kitchen, not so subtly shoulder checking Yamamoto as he does so (and Tsuna will have to talk with Gokudera about antagonizing Yamamoto later when they’re alone). “You’re just … you’re so perfect.” Gokudera says in wonder, just outside the kitchen – hand around Tsuna’s waist. 

“I’m – I’m not.” Tsuna sputters, unconsciously leaning into Gokudera’s touch. “I burned the scones!”

“But you made them for me.” Gokudera’s tail slowly begins to wag, then faster and faster, until his tail is hitting his pajama pants in a steady  _ thump-thump-thump _ behind him. 

“And I  _ burned  _ them,” Tsuna repeats, heavy emphasis on the ‘burned’ because really, that’s the most important part of the sentence. It’s not one of those situations where it’s ‘the thought that counts’ because in the end, the scones are still inedible. 

“That’s okay!” Gokudera’s tail continues to wag behind him and his eyes are so bright they’re almost sparkling. Tsuna feels sort of dazzled. “I would eat anything you made you me, but really, I don’t like scones all that much –“ 

Tsuna frowns. “I looked it up online and it said that Europeans love scones.” 

Gokudera laughs, lurching forward to press his nose against Tsuna’s. “Are you sure it didn’t say the  _ English _ love scones?” 

Tsuna tries to recall the website from which he’d read that statement. “… I don’t know. It might of – oh,  _ no _ . That was the website that I got all of the recipes from and if it was wrong about that, then –“ 

“Tsuna.” Yamamoto steps out of the kitchen and he too drapes an arm around Tsuna, though it’s around his shoulder this time instead of his waist. “I’m sure Gokudera would love to eat anything you made.”

Gokudera snarls and pulls Tsuna closer to him, and by proxy farther away from Yamamoto. “You stupid stalker, what’s that supposed to mean? Of course I would eat anything Tsuna made me – he’s the best chef in the entire world!” 

“Entire world might be pushing it,” Tsuna says, from where he’s pressed against Gokudera’s, admittedly nice, chest. And because Tsuna just  _ knows _ Gokudera is going to argue with him on it, Tsuna then quickly says, “Let’s go eat breakfast! It’s going to get cold if we wait any longer.” 

Tsuna can hear Yamamoto shift behind them, though he thinks nothing of it, assuming that Yamamoto is just getting ready to go to the dining room. 

It’s not until Yamamoto snatches Tsuna out of Gokudera’s arms and swings him into a bridal style carry, sprinting towards the dining room as Gokudera screams behind them that Tsuna realizes just how  _ wrong _ he was. 

* * *

Despite himself, Tsuna can’t help but to smile. His life has certainly taken a strange turn in the past few weeks, but in all honesty, he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“That was so good,” Gokudera pats his stomach, eying the remaining food on the table longingly. 

“Hayato-kun! You’ll get sick if you eat all of that. Aren’t you full?” Tsuna, who had finished eating his food early twenty minutes ago, moves the remaining eggs and bacon farther away from Gokudera so that he couldn’t easily access it. There wasn’t much left however – Gokudera had thoroughly demolished the bulk of the food Tsuna had made for him. 

“Mm.” Gokudera vocalizes, patting his stomach one more time – eying the food Tsuna had moved away from him, though he doesn’t make any move for it. “You’ll make a great wife someday, Tsuna.” 

Tsuna sputters, wondering if that’s some sort of insult. 

Before he can ask, Yamamoto chimes in beside him, after wiping the corners of his mouth a napkin. “Oh yeah, before I forget – your mom agrees that you would look best in white in the wedding.” 

Tsuna blinks. And blinks. And  _ blinks _ . “… why were you talking with my mother about weddings?” He asks, and then  _ immediately _ regrets it because he can tell that, despite Yamamoto’s guileless expression, his response will only serve to rile Gokudera up. “N-nevermind, I –“ 

“You talked to Tsuna’s mother?” Gokudera looks both furious and deeply impressed. “You  _ bastard _ .” 

“I did,” Yamamoto says smugly. “She even said she feels safer about Tsuna living on his own now that she knows I’m staying with him.” 

Gokudera sucks in a sharp breath. 

Tsuna is almost afraid to ask, but the curiosity is  _ killing _ him. “What all did you … talk about with my mom?” 

“I know I should’ve asked first, but she sounded like she missed you a lot – so I invited her over for dinner?” Even if Tsuna were mad at Yamamoto for doing so – the sight of Yamamoto’s brightest smile would certainly win Tsuna over. “But she said she can’t do it anytime soon, so would next week work for you? She said your dad will be back in town, but that he misses you too and they would love to have dinner with you.” 

This time, it’s Tsuna sucking in a sharp breath. “That … that doesn’t sound right. My dad doesn’t … he wouldn’t want to see me.” 

Yamamoto and Gokudera exchange an uncharacteristically solemn look. “I’m sure that – “ Gokudera begins hesitantly, looking so very, very earnest.

“I have to go to the store.” Tsuna blurts out, because while he really  _ did _ need to go to the store, he was going to ask Yamamoto or Gokudera if they wanted to join him later to do so. Now, he’s just using it as an excuse to get out of the house and just  _ think _ . 

“Tsuna, I’m … sorry if I made you upset or –“ For once, Yamamoto isn’t wearing a smile and it just makes Tsuna feel even worse because  _ he _ made Yamamoto feel like he had messed up when he hadn’t – it was just Tsuna’s stupid family issues flaring up once more. 

“No, no!” Tsuna is quick to say, wanting to disabuse Yamamoto of the notion that his words had hurt him. “I .. um. I just – I have to get g-groceries?” 

Despite Tsuna’s, admittedly pathetic, attempt at an explanation, Yamamoto still doesn’t look convinced. He scoots his chair out, makes to stand – then seemingly thinks better of it, sitting back down, expression cautious. “… If you’re willing to wait for us to get ready, Gokudera and I can come with –“ 

Yamamoto’s uncharacteristically hesitant words are interrupted by Gokudera’s vigorous nodding and Tsuna looks between the two, trying to think of a way to tell Yamamoto that he – and Gokudera – can’t come without hurting their feelings, because as much as he appreciates them … he needs to get out of the house  _ alone _ to process the idea of his  _ father _ coming over for dinner. Finally, he just blurts out – 

“I’m – I’m getting you gifts! So – so you can’t come with!” 

And he immediately winces, because that excuse is  _ terrible _ , but luckily Gokudera and Yamamoto don’t press him for details. Instead, Yamamoto looks even  _ more _ upset than he had before and Gokudera’s ears have drooped, a sign that Tsuna has come to realize means that Gokudera is either spectacularly disappointed or distressed. 

Which … is strange, considering that horrible lying aside – he’d just said he would get them gifts. Tsuna blinks, the urge to race out of the house to process the news that his father would be in town soon and the urge to stay and ask his guests  _ what _ was wrong both equally strong. 

In the end, after sitting at the table for an inordinate amount of time, frozen like the loser his high school bullies accused him of being – he decides to do a little of both. Considering it was his terrible way with words that had led to this situation in the first place, Tsuna decides – after standing from his chair gingerly, careful not to make too much noise – that the best way to show Yamamoto that he wasn’t mad, that he was forgiven (though there was nothing  _ to _ forgive in the first place), and that he appreciated the other magical doctor was to take the initiative and twine their magic together. 

It takes a little bit of effort – there  _ was  _ a reason that it was Yamamoto who normally did this – but after a moment, Tsuna is able to locate Yamamoto’s magic, tucked in close to his body (another testament to Yamamoto’s emotional state) and much like Yamamoto has done for the past few days, he  _ squeezes _ . 

Except. 

Unused to initiating magical contact, he squeezes a bit  _ too  _ hard. This, then, produces a feedback loop that is much  _ too _ intense, forcing Tsuna’s knees to abruptly buckle, forcing him to catch himself on the back of the chair he’d just vacated, and – 

“A- _ ah! _ ” As soon as the, quite frankly,  _ indecent  _ sound leaves his lips, Tsuna slaps a hand over his mouth – face rapidly reddening. 

But the damage has already been done. 

When Tsuna chances a glance at Yamamoto, he finds the other man staring at Tsuna, eyes wide and face red. It was just his luck that when he tried to comfort Yamamoto – to show him that he wasn’t angry and that he  _ liked _ that the man was compatible with him – it would go awry. His attempt to apologize similarly goes wrong, as the only sound that comes out of his mouth is a high-pitched squeak. 

Tsuna’s face gets even  _ more _ red at that (and he can even feel his magic begin to crackle along his temples and fluff up his hair as he gets more and more embarrassed) and he would’ve bolted right then and there had he not promised himself he would try to comfort both Yamamoto  _ and _ Gokudera before leaving for the store. But considering how he’d messed up trying to do so with Yamamoto, he wasn’t sure that Gokudera would even  _ want _ him to do so. In the end, he settles on approaching Gokudera – whose face was also curiously red – and giving him a brief, gentle pat on the head, trying desperately to ignore the feel of the werewolf’s fur against his over-sensitive fingers. 

_ Then _ he leaves, rushing out of the room, with a muttered goodbye and without a backward glance. 

* * *

In the end, Lambo and his father don't directly to Tsuna's practice. The nearest forest is about an hour and a half away and they don’t even make it fifteen minutes before someone calls Lazzaro, Lambo’s father, with a time-sensitive emergency. And though he was loathe to put his work before his child – it was very likely that if he didn’t handle said emergency, there wouldn’t  _ be _ a work to come home to. Still, he arranges for the best healer in the country to come see Lambo while Lazzaro works. Unfortunately, though she’s an incredible healer, she’s not Tsuna – a fact that has his precious son was still whining when Lazzaro left to handle the business emergency. 

Almost a full day later, when the situation is resolved – one subordinate had gotten too big for his britches and thought to try and overthrow Lazzaro as the Bovino guild leader and while it hadn’t taken long to kill the perpetrator, it had taken even longer to calm his guild and reform it so that something like this wouldn’t happen again – the healer has stabilized Lambo enough that Lazarro feels comfortable completing the rest of the week’s work so that when he and his son  _ do _ go see Tsuna, they’ll be able to stay much, much longer than they normally do. Lazzaro figures that his son would rather spend a few extra days in Italy without Tsuna so that he could spend a week  _ with  _ him, or he  _ would _ if he were he conscious. 

Not for the first time since this disastrous ‘emergency,’ Lazzaro thanks Healer Adrien’s foresight when it came to his son – as placing him in a magically induced sleep was not only better for the boy, but also better for his father.

There was only so much pain that a parent could see their child in before it was unbearable, after all. 

Fortunately, with Lambo asleep, Lazzaro is able to complete about a week and a half worth of work in seventy-three hours of non-stop working, spurred on by sheer determination – and the thought of seeing Lambo’s lovely healer once more. 

When he’s finally finished, Lazzaro is running on fumes, but he’s not so tired that he can’t collect his son and make it to the car waiting for him in the garage – though once he pours himself into said car, all bets are off. 

And he falls asleep with his son cradled gently to his chest within seconds of the car pulling out of the driveway. 

An hour and a half later, Lazzaro wakes – groggy, somehow feeling even worse off than he had before sleeping. The car is stopped at the very edge of the forest, where the trees begin to thicken, and when he steps out of the car, his men know not to even offer to follow. 

It’s probably wrong of him to covet Tsuna’s company as he does, that he does it so much that his subordinates know that his time with Tsuna is for only him (and his son, of course) – but he can’t bring himself to feel guilty. 

Lazzaro doesn’t say goodbye to his subordinates. Simply gives an approximate date of when he’ll return (next week) and how to contact him if they need him before entering the forest, thinking of Tsuna and his home, letting the familiar magic deliver him and his son, still cradled in his arms, still unconscious, halfway across the world. 

* * *

By the time Tsuna makes it to the convenience store twenty minutes later, the redness on his cheeks has just barely cooled to a manageable level and his hair, as far as he can tell, has returned to its regular size.

Mind clearer, he can now focus on what he came here to do. 

Get groceries. 

And gifts. 

The first wouldn’t be that hard. He was actually fairly well-stocked at his house, thanks to the weekly deliveries he’d quickly set up after seeing how much Gokudera – and then later, Yamamoto – could eat, but he’d have to get  _ something _ from the convenience store to make it look like he hadn’t left simply because of what Yamamoto had said. 

(And he  _ hadn’t _ . It wasn’t even ten minute after he’d left his house that he regretted doing so – that he’d wished he hadn’t pushed Yamamoto and Gokudera away as he had, that he wished he had stayed in his house with the two men who were rapidly becoming his most important people. 

His father and he may have many unresolved issues but Tsuna never wants them to affect his relationship with the two men as it did today, even if that means sitting through an awkward dinner with his parents.) 

It … was the second part that would perhaps be a bit difficult. Now, Tsuna dreamed about someone being compatible with him nearly his entire life (and his relationship with Gokudera isn’t much different, in all honesty) and thus has dreamed about how he would lavish his partner in gifts and affection – and even more daringly,  _ kisses _ – and the idea of getting something cheap at the convenience store sat wrong with him. 

Yamamoto and Gokudera deserved  _ so _ much more than that. So much more than  _ him _ , Dame-Tsuna, the ugly loser who made it all through high school without one friend. 

He wants to give them the world – prove that he’s good for them – but he also doesn’t want to be parted from them longer than necessary. 

So. 

Convenience store gifts it would have to be. 

With a firm nod of his head and an unshakeable resolve, Tsuna enters the convenience store – 

Only to slam into someone who was exiting. 

* * *

For Lazzaro, the trip to Tsuna’s house is familiar and he only has to rely on muscle memory to get there – which is a good thing because as exhausted as he is, he’s not entirely sure he’s capable of intelligent thought. 

He makes it to Tsuna’s eccentric house in what seems like record time, stepping onto the property with a sigh – the feeling of Tsuna’s wards and magic a balm to his tired soul. He presses a kiss to his son’s forehead (his son who has managed to wrinkle his suit, even unconscious as he was) and takes those last few steps to Tsuna’s front door, raising his hand to knock. 

There’s barely a minute between his knock before he can hear footsteps racing towards the front door and Lazzaro feels himself smile at how eager the young healer is – and then the door opens. 

And the smile turns to a snarl. 

Because the person standing on the opposite side of the door, the person standing inside Tsuna’s house – is  _ not _ Tsuna. 

And  _ is _ a werewolf. 

“I’m looking for Sawada Tsunayoshi.” Lazzaro says through gritted teeth, though any menacing aura quickly deteriorates when he hefts his son higher on his hip and Lambo snuggles in closer to his father. Then, even though it’s not  _ technically _ true, he says – 

“We have an appointment.”

* * *

Tsuna tries to stumble back, to put a little bit of space in between him and the person he managed to run into, but before he can even take a half step backwards – two hands dart forward, one grabbing his arm, the other on his waist – pulling him even  _ closer _ . 

Which. 

Is weird. 

Because even though Gokudera and Yamamoto may value his company, he was hardly used to others doing the same. He’d lived his entire life without others noticing him or wanting to be close to him. The idea that someone he didn’t even know would is, admittedly, a bit flattering. However, it’s still a bit of an inconvenience, because Tsuna has to get inside the store to get the items he needed to get back home to Gokudera and Yamamoto. So he looks up, intending to ask to be let go –  

And he promptly forgets what he was meant to say. 

Because the man holding him is perhaps the most handsome man that Tsuna’s ever seen in his entire  _ life _ . 

* * *

Tsuna leaves the convenience store confused and a bit dazzled, heading back to his house as quickly as possible. Clutched in his hand are the two cellphone charms and even disoriented as he is from the strange compatibility-like sensation that happened in the company of the man who was  _ clearly _ not human and didn’t have the magic needed for compatibility, he can’t wait to get home to Yamamoto and Gokudera. In fact, it would probably be fair to say that half of his walk home is actually a  _ run _ and he only stops sprinting when he can see his house through the trees. 

When he reaches his house, he blinks and moves forward slower – a million thoughts running through his head trying to figure out why there are boxes outside his door. 

Were they packages? In an attempt to satiate his curiosity, Tsuna searches the top-most box for a packaging label and frowns when he finds none. 

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’ll just ask Yamamoto and Gokudera what the packages were when he gets inside – after he gives them his gifts. 

Excitement rejuvenated by the thought of Yamamoto and Gokudera’s reaction to the gifts he’d gotten them, he finds himself smiling without conscious thought as his magic unlocks his front door and lets him inside. 

Only for his excitement and cheer to turn to  _ horror _ because – 

Yamamoto is carrying boxes downstairs. The boxes that Tsuna had helped him unpack into his new room. 

Tsuna doesn’t realize that his grip on the plastic bag containing the instant ramen he’d bought (or rather, that the mysterious handsome stranger had bought) at the convenience store becomes slack until he hears the aforementioned bag hitting the floor, startling him out of his fugue state. 

“W-what is happening? What a-are you  _ doing _ ?” Tsuna’s voice is louder than he intends, but he can’t  _ help _ it – he’d known that Yamamoto would eventually leave him, but he didn’t realize that it would be so  _ soon _ . To quell his rising panic, Tsuna tries to assure himself that it’s entirely possible that Yamamoto is  _ not _ planning to move out. 

It doesn’t exactly work. Especially not when, for a moment while he sets the box down, Yamamoto’s only reply is a pained grimace. 

“I … I think we moved too fast,” he says, looking anywhere but at Tsuna. 

Well. 

There goes any sort of calmness that Tsuna had tried to maintain during their conversation. In fact – wait – are the walls closing in on him? 

Breathe _. It’s okay _ , Tsuna tries to tell himself,  _ you knew this was going to happen eventually. Why would anyone ever want to stay? _

And perhaps unsurprisingly, those terrible thoughts only make things  _ worse _ than they already were and embarrassingly, Tsuna almost feels as if he’s about to  _ cry _ and he holds off, not wanting to guilt Yamamoto into staying. 

“That’s … okay, that’s fine, I –“ And Tsuna is trying  _ desperately _ to remain supportive, but it’s terribly, terribly hard when the one person that Tsuna often dreamed would love him is  _ leaving him _ . “No. I’m sorry, I’m  _ sorry _ . I don’t know what I did wrong, but I won’t do it again. I swear – I  _ promise _ .” 

And he takes an abortive step forward, but stops, flinching back – not wanting to mess up the situation any more than it already was. He wishes desperately that the walls of his house would swallow him up and spit him out four hours earlier, when life had been _perfect_.  


"... Tsuna? What are you talking about – you didn't do anything? I'm the one who –" Yamamoto sounds even more pained than before and Tsuna chances a glance up at the other man, eyes widening when he sees that Yamamoto looks just as emotionally devastated as Tsuna feels.

"Takeshi." Tsuna says sternly, firming his resolve to cross the small distance to Yamamoto, reaching forward to press a hand to the other man's forearm – not only to comfort Yamamoto, but also comfort himself. Tsuna breathes easier when he can feel Yamamoto's subdued magic and reaches for it gently, not noticing Gokudera come out of the bedroom downstairs that he'd turned into a makeshift waiting room. "You didn't do anything wrong. I want you to stay, here – with me, but if you don't want to –"

"Tsuna." Yamamoto says just as sternly, magic flaring out in reaction to its owner's strong emotions. "Do you really think that there's anywhere in the world that I would rather be? No – it's my fault. Talking to your mom was too forward of me and I made you uncomfortable. I should –"

" _You stupid fucking stalker_." Comes Gokudera's voice to the left of them. Surprisingly, he's not yelling – but he's more angry than Tsuna's ever heard him sound. Tsuna turns to scold him for being mean to Yamamoto, but his mouth snaps shut at the furious expression on the werewolf's face. 

"Can't you see –" Gokudera advances on Yamamoto like a true predator, strides long and canines poking out of his mouth. Tsuna quickly represses the urge to touch them, because _now is not the time_ as Gokudera _really_ might kill Yamamoto this time. "That Tsuna doesn't want you to leave? That you're hurting him by trying to go?"

Yamamoto jolts at the words and turns to stare down at Tsuna, something like awe on his face. "You – really want me to stay?"

Exasperated, but also incredibly fond, Tsuna nods. "I do. I really do."

* * *

Bianchi loses the trail to Hayato just after finding his blood, something that both vexes and worries her. Though some (i.e. her baby brother) may accuse her of being overprotective, as his alpha, she felt driven to ensure that he was safe at all times, that he was happy – and most of all, that he was clean. 

See, Bianchi hadn’t groomed her brother in over four months and seeing as though being an alpha meant that there was an innate instinct to take care of her pack, the fact that her baby brother had spent so long out in the world without her made the wolf inside of her mourn. 

Though she wasn’t pleased that Hayato had spilled blood, no matter how little the amount was, that wasn’t the only driving force behind her wanting to see her brother. 

She hated to admit it, but she mostly wanted to see her brother because she was desperately lonely. 

Wolves traveled in packs – and Bianchi’s had taken to gallivanting across the world without even leaving a note! 

Her frustration helps matters not – as no matter how angry she gets; it’s doing nothing to help her find her brother. Still, as an alpha  _ and _ a werewolf, her emotions run deep and she can’t stop the snarl that rises in her throat, even as she remains in her hotel room, nowhere near the sushi restaurant where her baby brother’s trail went cold. The snarl tapers off into a low grumble and the signature alpha redness seeps into her eyes as she throws on her leather jacket and darts out of her room – heading back out to try and ferret out her beta. 

“Don’t worry little brother …” It’s said quietly, a direct counterpoint to her aggressive actions of late.  

“I’ll find you.”

* * *

_ Approximately nine days ago _ …

The sanctuary for familiars is not a cheery one. 

It’s a solemn place because whether a familiar had lost their attendant or had been abandoned by them, a familiar without their witch is a sad one. Some familiars don’t make it to the sanctuary and they fade without those grounding bonds between attendant and familiar. Even if the familiar does make it to the sanctuary, it’s not exactly something to celebrate. 

Every familiar at the sanctuary is broken, some to the point where they can’t function. At times, it seems like those that die with their attendants are the lucky ones. Still, the sanctuary provides what each individual familiar needs – and what one sky-lion needs is to be left alone. 

Though it was spectacularly unhealthy, the lion cub can’t help but to dwell on that day so many years ago when the fledgling bond between he and his human had snapped and he knew then that his attendant (or rather, future attendant – as his tiny human wasn’t ready for the bond that was required between a familiar and their attendant) had died. Now, the sky lion knew that his baby attendant wouldn’t want him to dwell on such negative thoughts, but the lion cub can’t help but to wonder if he could have saved his attendant had he been there when – 

When – 

And almost like divine intervention,  _ that’s _ when the sky-lion feels a burst of the purest, warmest magic he’s ever felt. 

Magic that he’d never thought he’d feel again. 

His  _ attendant’s  _ magic. 

Not a second later, the fragile, broken bond between he and his witch flares to life once more and his fire mane that he’d groomed close to his fur in deference to the deceased status of his most important human – grows and grows, illuminating his fur in a way that’s a stark contrast with how dull it’s looked for over ten years. 

For a moment, the young sky-lion simply basks in the familiar – and somewhat foreign – feeling of the attendant bond, before jumping to his feet and scurrying towards the edge of the sanctuary’s property. 

_ Don’t worry, Tsu-kun! I’m on my way! _

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on social media!! i ramble about fics a lot :3
> 
> tumblr: lunaesomniium   
> twitter: lunaesomnium


End file.
